Siheyuan: Orphaned Child of a Martyr, Everyone Has Their Eye on His Big House

Under the ink-black night sky, the courtyard gate beside the old well in Mao'er Hutong creaked on its hinges. I'd just taken over this body: a descendant of a fallen martyr, with no parents or older brother left. The previous owner was soft-hearted and let Yi Zhonghai talk him into becoming a fitter at the workshop. Our three-room, grand-tiled house took up half the front courtyard. Yi Zhonghai wanted to trade our home for the Jia family's ramshackle place, then have Silly Zhu support him in his old age. First, I'll bolt the door. Then I'll settle this courtyard's accounts, starting with the deed.